


Sufferance

by katikat



Category: MacGyver (TV 2016)
Genre: Angst, Coda, Episode Related, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-03
Updated: 2018-02-03
Packaged: 2019-03-13 07:07:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,176
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13565412
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katikat/pseuds/katikat
Summary: Mac doesn’t want any gifts from Murdoc. Murdoc insists. A coda to episode 215. Mac’s POV. (Unbeta'd)





	Sufferance

It’s getting dark and they’re all on Mac’s back porch, sitting around the fire pit in a much somber mood now that they received the news about Murdoc’s escape and his kidnapping of little Cassian. They sit there, staring into the flames, tired and angry, frustrated…  _sad_.

And that’s when Mac’s phone rings. He pulls it out of his pocket, hissing when he jostles his wounded shoulder, and frowns down at the glowing display. Unknown number. He answers it anyway. “Hello?”

“Does it still hurt, the bullet wound? At least a little? Please, MacGyver, tell me it still  _hurts_!”

Mac’s eyes widen a little and he looks around quickly. “ _Murdoc_ …” 

They all straighten up in alarm, even Diane who’s never met the madman, and Matty motions to Riley who immediately jumps to her feet and runs inside to her trusty laptop to trace the call.

“How did you get this number?” Mac asks and not just to stall. This is namely a new phone, a new number!

“Oh, Angus,” Murdoc tells him and Mac can almost see him shaking his head. “Sooner or later, I can get to everything of yours: your cellphone number, your home… your  _friends_. It’s all a part of the game, don’t you see?”

Mac narrows his eyes and his voice deepens with anger. “ _Game_? You think this is a  _game_?”

“Well, of course it’s a  _game_ ,” Murdoc replies in a “well, duh” tone. “And I haven’t had this much fun in years.”

Clenching his jaw, Mac shuts his eyes tight for a moment, forcing himself to calm down. “How’s Cassian?” he asks, his voice hoarse with tension. “Is he alright?”

“Oh, he’s great!” Murdoc answers brightly. “Unlike  _our_ fathers, I would neither hurt nor abandon my son,  _ever_. He’s very happy to be back with me, far away from the bad people who  _stole_ him from his daddy.”

Mac really hopes that Riley will locate Murdoc soon or that she’ll tell him it can’t be done so that he can hang up. He can’t talk to Murdoc right now. Everything they’ve been through with the psycho in tow over the last day is still too fresh in his mind, memories of letting the man inside his head, of opening up to him still too difficult to deal with. He can feel himself tensing which makes his shoulder  _hurt_ despite his medication - yet another reminder of Murdoc.

“Why did you call?” Mac asks, finally opening his eyes again. He can see the others staring at him anxiously, Jack even sat forward a little, twisting his hands so hard his knuckles turned all white.

“Because I have a gift for you, MacGyver,” Murdoc replies still brightly.

“I don’t want any gifts, especially not from  _you_ ,” Mac snaps harshly.

“Ah, you’ll definitely like this one,” Murdoc assures him. “Come on, ask me what it is.  _Ask_ me!”

Mac clenches his jaw and keeps quiet. To hell with Murdoc, he will not give him what he wants.

“MacGyver,” Murdoc says and something dark and threatening finds its way into his voice, “ _do_ ask me what it is or bad things will start happening very soon.”

Swallowing his anger, Mac grits out through clenched teeth, “What is it?”

“I’m glad you asked!” Murdoc responds, once again terrifyingly cheerful. “Trace this call and you’ll see. I’ve left you a present here. I’m sure you’ll be  _delighted_!”

Riley rushes back out on silent feet with her laptop in hands and nods at them, eyes wide and urgent. She got it, Murdoc’s location.

“Oh, and, Angus, never forget that if it wasn’t for me, you would be dead right now. You’re alive  _only_ on my sufferance,” Murdoc reminds him, voice cold and deadly. “See you soon.”

And before Mac can say anything else, he hears the phone on the other end clatter against a hard surface. The line remains open, Murdoc didn’t hang up.

Mac lowers his phone and looks at the others. “We need to go. Now!”

* * *

Mac waits in the car with Matty while their team, led by Jack, raids the house from where Murdoc called. He got shot today, after all, and though he wouldn’t admit it to anyone, he feels lousy. His shoulder hurts,  _breathing_ hurts and he has a tension headache… he really doesn’t feel like dealing with yet another Murdoc related mess right now. Yet, here he is.

“You okay?” Matty asks him in a soft, kind voice.

Mac just nods, letting his head rest against the back of his seat, sitting there with his eyes closed. Jesus, he’s tired. It seems that this day will never end.

Their radio crackles and Jack’s voice says into the stillness of the car, “All clear. But you really need to see this.”

_Alright, then._

The house is empty except for their people who direct Mac and Matty towards the bedroom where Jack’s waiting by the door, looking grim. He looks at Mac with  _something_ in his eyes, something that makes Mac…  _apprehensive_.

“What?” he asks, and instead of answering, Jack moves aside.

And there, on the bed, a body of a man with a knife sticking from its chest. The bed covers, the dead man’s clothes, everything looks soaked in blood. And on the wall by the bed, in a clear line of sight from the door, two words, painted in dripping red: ONE DOWN.

The body on the bed? Fletcher, Henry Fletcher. The man who orchestrated Murdoc’s downfall and got paid 10 millions for it. And now he’s dead. Murdoc took his revenge.  _Christ…_

“Is  _that_  Murdoc’s gift?” Matty asks, stepping up to the bed and looking down at the body with an expression of disgust. She’s not disturbed by Fletcher’s death itself, nobody here really is, rather by how it happened and who caused it. And how fast he managed to do it.

Jack shakes his head. “No, I’m sure the dead guy got carved up for Murdoc’s sick pleasure. But I think he wanted Mac -  _us_ \- to have this.”

He lifts a duffle bag from the floor and drops it onto a chair. When he unzips it, there’s money inside, thousands,  _hundreds of thousands_ of dollars.

“Fletcher’s share of the spoils,” Mac says hoarsely. It’s not a question. He would bet his life that it’s the money the Phoenix Foundation paid for Murdoc. And that Murdoc didn’t take a single dollar from it.

“Why didn’t he keep it?” Matty asks, frowning.

Mac glances down at the body, then at the writing on the wall, at the money… and then he turns to leave. In the doorway, he says over his shoulder, “Because for him, it was never about the money. He left it here for us because he got what he wanted. With our help.”  _In exchange for saving my life…_

“Revenge?” Jack asks, looking at Mac with concern in his eyes.

“His son,” Mac corrects him.

And then he leaves the room, the house, and heads for the car. He’s so tired and there’s nothing for him to do here anymore.


End file.
